


The Deep End

by aliensss



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe, Angst, Blood, M/M, Major Spoilers, Much murder, Murder, Spoilers, Violence, akira's probably high, au where stealing hearts is bad, everyones fucked, how is this supposed to be rated anyway gahhhh, i cant english im sorryyy, much blood much symbolism, no this isnt a free! au, save me from my unoriginality and my inability to write, this au is v similiar in a way to killing stalking and im not happy bout that, yusuke is confused and conflicted
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2018-12-05 10:16:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11576007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aliensss/pseuds/aliensss
Summary: Red | adjectiveA colour of violence, danger and passion.





	1. Red

**Author's Note:**

> AU Where the process of stealing hearts is a bit more... literal.
> 
> O K OK ok sO- I was thinking about this AU at like whut?? 3am?  
> So here you go. First fic here so sorry sorry if it's bad- May probably edit this in the near future - like all my other fics
> 
> Chapter is kind of divided into two parts - working on the second half now actually-  
> Anyways - hope you enjoy???

_Exposed_ , the street light bled, revealing the fine details of the masked culprit: from the sleek arrangement of leather,the curls that buried him, matted and drenched from the red rain pelting onto him to the slumped body on the concrete. 

_Red | adjective  
A colour of violence, danger and passion. _

This moment was _flooded_ in it, he was drowning in it. Those glassy, grey eyes beneath the mask dragging him further and further. 

and _blink._

Opening his eyes again, he was left by himself,The absence of the other had left him breathing again, only to focus on the mess the other had made. 

On one hand, he remained a grip to what he was holding onto, only just remembering its existence. He held it beside him, now more than ever, his nails digging into ruined paper and cardboard.

On the other hand, he trembled, not by fear alone, but in conflict. Hesitant, he reached for his phone and dialled the number.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yusuke calls over the police about the murder and is escorted home.

Surely by now if he were to return to he would be greeted alone with the eyes of distrust and concern from his Sensei. He would be interrogated there, like he was here. He would scold him there after, concluding in words coated in care and worry. A father he was - and still will be. Although: knowing deep down, he knew Sensei wouldn't think or be anything of that sort. He wouldn't try searching for him. 

"Kitagawa."

Oh. He's back here again. He was pulled back, eyes shooting back at the stern prosecutor in front of him. He was pulled back to the pool.

Tired, he rubbed the appearing shadows over his eyes, feeling a small burn as he did this.,  
"My apologies."

"I will be going back to the station soon," She, Sae Nijima, announces looking down at the wristwatch.

"We will call you again later when you are needed for further questioning about the case. Do you have a secured route of transport?"

Recalling, Yusuke thought about the whereabouts of his wallet: sitting idly by the empty easel, its leather, paint splattered self ridiculing him. He remembered leaving it there before going out later that night. This didn't affect his situation too much however, he had barely any expenses to survive off anyway. What a _fool_ he was. 

"I'm afraid I do not." 

"Is this place of appropriate walking distance?"

Struggling to recollect back the route he had used to get here in the first place. To him, this side of Shibuya was uncharted for him, finding it, finding all of this by chance.  
"Unfortunately I do not know that answer."

Looking up again, Nijima stared back at him and sighed.  
He gulped, he didn't want to be a burden to the authorities more than he already was. Better yet, he didn't want to be a burden to Sensei either knowing the events of this prolonged adventure. 

"I see. I'll let Akechi drive you back instead, if that's fine with you?"

"Thank you. I am truly in your debt."

"I'll see you back at the station in a few days from now. Go take some rest." The prosecutor turns from him to speak with other members of the department leaving some time to himself, and the body. 

Still slouching, the body sat still in the scene before him, only to be excused from the washed out and muddied state he was in from the rain and … him.  
The victim's face was at state where he was no where to be identifiable, bloodied and removed it was the top half of his facial skin that has been removed and beaten to a pulp. His lifeless and dead eyes pasted to the floor, _weeping_. 

Similar to the treatment of the face, his chest looked to have been ripped open, presenting the cracked ribcage and the organs in between, leaving vacancy for an empty space for where the heart should be. 

All around him, he was covered in it, the red, a signature painted by yesterday, _a ripple in the pool._

Truly an indescribable display. 

Yusuke shuddered at touch of a cold presence behind him, jumping at the sudden action.  
Turning away he was met with a man who, unlike Nijima, was a man who radiated positivity. This man was overall appropriately well-dressed for the wet weather, wearing a beige trench coat, patterned tie and, dress pants and black, leather gloves on which complimented his caramel hair.

The man looked at him with comforting eyes, burgundy, shining light onto the pool, thawing the heart.  
Subtle, the palettes he words were nice to look at, it was definite that Yusuke had considered to use him as a muse someday.  
"I am truly sorry for what you were forced to witness today," the man speaks, eyes full of pity leaving a sting to Yusuke's dignity, like chlorine being dropped further into his wounds.  
"It must have been traumatic for you."

"No sir, it is my greatest apology that we have all gotten into this predicament."

The man takes a pause, a small twitch barely visible creeps at the corner of his mouth "It is the culprit we must blame, not you Kitagawa." He smiles and lets go of Yusuke, little did he know, it was as if holding his breath, he felt the sweet relief of oxygen that had filled his lungs.

He raises out his right hand again to Yusuke, "Moving on to much brighter topics, my name is Akechi, a detective that will be investigating this case. It is a pleasure to meet you."

Another hit to Yusuke, he is wounded from Akechi's gentlemanly act, Yusuke was ashamed of his negligence to introductions, Sensei wouldn't have been pleased at this kind of behaviour. He takes a bow instead, "I must apologise again Akechi, I have not properly greeted myself, my name is Yusuke Kitagawa, student of Madarame."

Akechi chuckles lightly at the gesture, motioning him to stand upright. 

"There's no need for that. Come. My car is just over there, I'll drive you back."

Setting himself a seat next to a Akechi, a wave of vanilla scent had swept over him. The smell overwhelming almost too strong, for his stomach to handle. Concentrated, the scent was suspicious and nauseating, as something beneath the exterior of this car, was heavily sugar coated like a thick blanket of syrup, covering up something more. 

Yusuke had repeated the address, Akechi nodded in understanding, turning the key. The car drives off. 

Driving through the streets of Shibuya, the car followed the endless flow of cars within the city's bloodstream like cells, pumping off adrenaline and driven by stimulants.

In this blood cell was a bleak silence, lacking in the energy in contrast to the crowd, this blood cell _hungering_ instead for something _more_. 

This car was silent, empty as one may describe it, yet it as if this emptiness was the stronghold of something deeper. This emotion leaving Yusuke to turn in his seat.

"Is anything the matter?"

For a minute or few, this silence was interrupted. Looking to Akechi, he saw him to still be focusing on the road, deep in concentration and thought about… something. 

It was understandable that this was merely small talk to break the ice. How diligent of him. In return Yusuke was to answer,  
"I am just fatigued, that is all." 

"Fatigued from the crime scene?"

"You… Can say that."

Akechi furrowed his brow taking a concerned glance to Yusuke. He didn't see this. There was another silence.

"Again, I truly apologise about bringing you into this situation."

Akechi laughed,  
"You don't need to be apologise. You were just… unfortunate."

"No I- really think I should -"

"Kitagawa. There is no need to apologise."  
Interrupted, he remained quiet.

Taking a breath, Akechi regained himself. 

"But, I do have to say… The state of this case was certainly quite unique."

Yusuke inhaled, taking another glance at the light that shone upon the waters of the pool, its hills appearing and disappearing over and over again. He recalled back to the body painted in _red_ , the light shining over the hills and ripples of the details, the identity, the familiarity of the victim appearing and disappearing from his mind.

"Honestly one of the most harrowing cases I've dealt with so far!"  
Akechi continued,  
"The victim's autopsy was surely fulfilled with inhumane and brutal nature, it's disgusting to see someone in a situation so depressing!"

From this, Akechi had continued to elaborate towards his distaste towards the crime scene, the light analysing further into the waves of the waters. The light was blinding and overwhelming, burning further and further into the back of Yusuke's retinas like the fire, the man's hunger for knowledge and answers leaving little space to see or hear anything at all.

Holding his breath, he restrains himself, choosing not to speak. 

The light shines for a while and a bit longer, Akechi taking occasional side glances, soon stopping himself, transitioning into the inevitable moving silence that lies within the car. 

No one says anything for a period of time. 

Slowly, the car manoeuvres itself around the narrow pathways and corners of the neighbourhood, stopping in front of a metal palace.  
Saying their farewells, Yusuke exits the car and watches it turn around the corner. 

The light fades away, driving its glow away from the waters, attentions gone now however still _lingering_. 

Reaching for his phone he checks his phone: 6:30am and no miscalls. He is hurt but he expected this. He takes his steps to get to the door tired and exhausted. Gingerly he thumbs through the ring of keys, examining the arches and points of their teeth. He chooses a key, turning the lock and cautiously sliding the door, taking into consideration of Sensei's wellbeing of sleep. 

Pausing, Yusuke breathes deeply, a cloud of fog on cue every time he does so. Digging, he digs his nails further into the cardboard, and _further_ into the paper. With one last breath, he holds it and steps inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not much to say here but it's just a continuation from previous chapter.  
> Was gonn a divide this chapter even more but just didn' t 
> 
> Teh fic is updated every time I finish a new chapter so there isn't really a set schedule for this.  
> Apologies if I have said anything innacurate ;-;  
> Anyways hope you enjoy reading this and the future upcoming chapters!!!


	3. Chapter 3

Stepping in, Yusuke was greeted by darkness, the darkness on which that was accompanied by the ever creaking noises of the run-down house. 

Life for a full-time artist was an life-long struggle as income wasn't frequent, a struggle on which even lead to Yusuke's sacrifice of his health and diet patterns for the sake of art. To him, the thought was like a bitter medicine that he would digest: distasteful however beneficial. 

Yusuke's stomach growled in pain, as if a knife twisted and turned within him. It's presence echoing off the thin walls of the house, Yusuke clutching onto the outer skin of his stomach in hopes to stop the pain and growling. Quietening the beast now, he proceeded to pass through the house, taking each step into consideration in order to belittle and shush the creaks beneath the floor, making his way to the kitchen. 

The kitchen to Yusuke was a distant friend and acquaintance, their interactions growing less and less each time, Yusuke only now visiting the kitchen to use its functions of a microwave or the preservations of the refrigerator. 

Pausing for a moment he waited and listened, the house was dead silent, excused from the creaking of floorboards beneath him.  
It had seemed Sensei would have left to discuss business with dealers. Upon remembrance, Yusuke relaxed himself, reassuring that his beloved mentor would not be disturbed so early in the morning.

He inhales the ever familiar scent of old wood and plaster of the house within his lungs, releasing them not long after in form of long exhale. He stops and takes his time to stand and breathe, letting himself pity the low grumbling of his stomach.

Now that Yusuke was here he might as well help himself. Not a lot for anyone to notice, but enough to satiate and stall his hunger for just a little longer.

_Sensei wouldn't mind would he?_

Opening the fridge, the cold breath of it coldly embracing him, the built in LED shining a faint light onto his tired-stricken face. Carefully he studied the contents of the fridge, and to his dismay was met with only few results and fewer options to choose from. 

He'd finally concluded on a small portion of leftovers of his 'recent' run to the market from one of the street stalls. Upon further inspection: the contents of the container had contained a curry-like substance that covered over some strange hybrid of vegetables, bean sprouts and hypothetically a chunk of salmon.

Aimlessly, Yusuke remained transfixed on to the container, staring mindlessly into the depths of the unthawed meal with no true motive in particular. 

"Yusuke?"

A jolt, Yusuke jumped in fear, his awareness heightened in a drunken, sleep deprived state. The kitchen lights were fully on now, drowning out the darkness of the morning. 

The voice was low and aged but however dressed in a gentler and wiser tone. He shuddered in recognition, he knew well towards the _truth_ of this facade.

Startled, Yusuke turns to the source rather shamefully, he might as well _face him._ Perhaps politeness would ease the incoming scolding that he was about to endure, "Sensei? What might you be doing at this hour?"  
Maybe changing the subject would derive his attention away from himself, he thought. 

"Me? Boy. Please refrain from prying into your mentor's personal life." Sensei tsked, frowning, his wrinkles of now prominent and filled with a mixture of annoyance, six in the morning was not the best of times to anger Sensei, "Now, I ask: what are doing up at this hour?"

Sensei's tone at this point was more harsher and direct straying further from the wise fatherly appearance that he with held up to just a moment ago, it was a tone that was rare to see by many.  
Yusuke however was not a stranger to it. 

It was this tone that left Yusuke speechless, he hated even no matter how many time he had seen this side to Sensei, he hated how he tensed, he hated how he would freeze up each and every single time. It was pathetic. 

"Well? Answer me boy." 

"I- I -"

"I'm waiting."  
Stern his voice was, Yusuke could see the frustration building up within his mentor, passively aggressively lashing out this annoyance towards the tightening of his grip on his sleeve, arms crossed. 

As much as he wanted to lie. There was no point in lying to Sensei. He had to tell the truth.

Inhaling deeply, he took a breath and calmed his nervousness,  
"I… I was walking to find inspiration for my next piece and-and I witnessed a… a murder, Sensei-"

"You- what?" 

"I saw a body Sensei."

By now Sensei's face was flashing through a mixture of confusion and disbelief, struggling to waver between whether to believe or not to believe. He finally concluded into a chuckle, patting Yusuke on the shoulder, "My boy. I knew you had an amazing imagination, but aren't you a bit too old for these stories?"

"But Sensei! This is no joke! You have to believe me?-"

"Yusuke. It is awfully early to jumping to conclusions. You must be delusional!"

"I'm not delusional! He's-"

"With this imagination, do encourage that you use this power to your advantage and put it to canvas-"

"Sensei please believe me!-"

"QUIET!"

Again, Yusuke froze up, the roar of Sensei's voice rattled throughout the cold home. A loud bang of pain striking Yusuke's ears causing him to cower before his superior, no matter how tall he was. 

"Haven't you learned that you must not retort back to your elders that way? You are being a nuisance and I will not tolerate any of your lies anymore! Not at this hour! Not ever!"

The bangs of pain continued to ring in his ears and spread to the rest of his head. Ignoring this, Sensei continued,"You are to dismiss yourself and continue on with your paintings for the exhibition. Is that clear?"

"Yes Sensei."

Sensei paused, taking a long, hard stare at Yusuke, glaring into his eyes. Yusuke on the other hand struggling not to twitch in front of him, still looking forward to his master as an act of respect. 

"Good. I must retire to my chambers." Sensei concludes, taking his leave towards the wooden staircase, stopping midway before finally retreating, "Oh and do dispose of that awful garbage you have with you. You're making a stench and we wouldn't want another incident occurring would we?"

With his footsteps following after him, the presence of Sensei had faded off further into the house leaving Yusuke alone to his thoughts.  
Rubbing furiously, Yusuke rubbed at his eyes as the sting of pain lingered there expecting for a tear of some sort.  
The container was still in his hands, trembling before him as he stared into it in his growing conflict. Solemnly, he had made his decision, walking to the cylindrical container and pressed on the foot pedal and opening the container's silver lid. Protesting, his stomach growled against it, Yusuke clutching to it in motives of ceasing it pleas and letting go of the container. 

Turning around Yusuke had caught sight of the mis-mangled stack of paper and cardboard sitting idly on the kitchen bench. He almost forgot about that. After all that, he had almost forgotten all about why he was there to begin with. 

_Right._

With cold hands, Yusuke takes the stack with him, taking slow, sober strides to the studio.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That took w a y too long to write  
> that was even for a single event!!!
> 
> ugh I'm sorry for the rly long wait if anyonw was even waitinggg  
> again english ain't my strong point and im more to draw emotions rather than write them tbh
> 
> but i'm not gonna drop this fic anytime soon  
> heck it will take a while but I won't abandon it just yet  
> hang in there uwu


End file.
